Dear Diary
by Patricia Sage
Summary: In that one second it took for our gazes to meet, I was complete. And he has absolutely stunning eyes. I have died every day, waiting for him. And now I found him. I found my soulmate.


**Dear Diary**

**Author's Note: Hello! I hope you're doing well! This was prompted by **_**AngelisIgniRelucent**_**, who wanted a fic based off of "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri…I kind of went a little nuts on this simple prompt. But I hope you like it! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

_Excerpt from the diary of Kurt Hummel._

_December 6, 2012_

Dear Diary,

I found him. After hundreds of years of searching, I found him today.

I was visiting a coffee shop (that caffeinated beverage has improved amazingly over the years) in a small town in Ohio called Lima. Generally, Lima was quite uninspiring. Tiny, plain, and boring, by my standards of villages at this age. But my opinion of it changed drastically when I found him.

I found him.

On soft, quiet days, I tend to simply seat myself somewhere and listen. Watch the humans as they interact with each other, interest myself in what they say and how they act. Lima is full of bigots and empty of sophistication, on the whole. But then a group of three boys walked in the shop, ringing the little bell attached to the door as they did so. One of them was of Asian descent, the other pale with dark hair, and the smallest had tan skin and a head of curls subdued by copious amounts of product. I noticed absentmindedly that he had very pretty eyes, but didn't think much of it. I thought all humans were beautiful, in a way that their vulnerability and mortality drew me to them like moth to a flame. They change so much over the ages, but remain identical at the core.

However, I was curious, so I listened to their conversation. They were all shivering slightly and shaking off snow from their toques and jackets. I analyzed them without drawing attention to that fact, marveling at the way they were affected by the cold weather. The smallest one had enticingly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. They looked mature, but still achingly young; they must have been about the age that I appeared to be.

The boys placed their orders and stood patiently by the counter, talking about music. If their singing voices were anything like their speaking ones, they must sound absolutely heavenly. Then, the palest one—almost as pale as me, and that's significant in human standards—turned to the small one and asked him a question, using his name.

Blaine.

If my heart was beating, it would have halted for a few moments. You have no idea how many 'Blaine's I've met in my lifetime but, no matter the multitude of moments I hear the name, I can't stop the thrill from going up my spine.

That Blaine then turned to the pale one—Nick was his name, I discovered—and said a teasing comment. And then Nick shoved him a little and said, "Oh, shut it, Anderson."

Anderson.

Which means that his name is Blaine Anderson.

I had met a couple of 'Blaine Anderson's before in the past. A bitter false alarm. None of them were the one I was looking for.

But, what about this beautiful creature?

He and his friends were moving towards a near table and I planned to talk to him when he sat down. However, he tripped over the leg of a chair before he could get there. I watched as he seemed to fall in slow motion, coffee spilling over on his sweater, but I couldn't stop myself from reacting. I had him in my arms before he could make impact with the linoleum.

Then he stared at me.

And I stared right back.

People say that it's like an electrical shock when you encounter your soulmate, but the experience, for me, felt like so much more. It wasn't a shock. It was as if everything that had been broken inside me mended and I became whole for the first time in my entire existence. In that one second it took for our gazes to meet, I was complete. And he has absolutely stunning eyes.

I have died every day, waiting for him. And now I found him.

I found my soulmate.

-Kurt Hummel

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Jeremy Stukel, translated from German._

_February 22, 1917_

Dear Diary,

Today, my world was turned upside down.

It started with a very strange man in our troop. His name is Kurt Hummel. He's not a German, but he was in the country and he enlisted, and he's also one of our best fighters. Nothing fazes him and he's incredibly strong-willed. He seems very seasoned for a man as young as he appears.

I don't know how to describe it, but I always knew he was strange. Almost…inhuman. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way he looked at people. His eyes aren't those of a young boy, but of somebody trapped. He's unfazed by violence, but has a bizarre reaction to blood. He's probably the only man here who doesn't seem very affected by the trench conditions; he hasn't gotten sick and he never looks like he's cold. I've begun to fear him.

I didn't know what it meant until today.

Our troop was sent to invade the enemy camp this morning but, because of an explosion, Hummel and I were trapped in a small room. That made me more frightened than I'm prepared to admit. He looked at me with those blue eyes like ice and I knew that he could tell my suspicions on my face. He simply raised his hands in a show of peace, and sat against the wall. After a couple tense moments of consideration, I joined him, sitting a couple feet away.

I decided that I'm going to die one way or another, so I might as well cut straight to the point. So, I asked him what he was. And he replied, "What do you think I am?" I had my suspicions and he wanted me to voice them. So, I did.

A vampire.

And then he simply nodded his head in consent. "You guessed right," he said. And I didn't know whether I was more frightened or curious that he was acting so calm. I think I rambled about the legends and stories I had heard before, and all he did was watch me calmly. I must have sounded very nervous, because he stopped me after a while and told me that he wasn't going to hurt me.

Oh. So, I asked him if he could answer some questions that I had…since we were kind of stuck for a while. Surprisingly, he said yes. This is what I learned:

Vampires are not made; they are born. A vampire and a human can conceive a child, and that child has a 72% chance of being a vampire. The child of a human couple only has a 13% chance of that. Each vampire is born with the name of their soulmate written on their left wrist, and they can never truly rest until they find that person. Their soulmate can either be human or vampire. And, the vampire will do absolutely anything for their soulmate, once found.

Kurt hasn't found his soulmate yet.

The vampires drink blood, but the thirst is bearable. It only becomes overwhelming if they have gone a long time (about a couple months, he said) without feeding, or if the feeding is part of an act of revenge. In that instance, it is almost impossible for the vampire to let the victim live.

Note to self: Do not get on Kurt Hummel's bad side.

He was incredibly civil, and I was surprised. He spoke to me calmly and answered my questions with great dignity and respect. He actually seemed relieved that he didn't have to hide, now that I know about him. I won't tell anyone and he knows this, so we are on good terms.

We were rescued after a day of being stranded. In a way I was thankful to be stuck with that vampire because I didn't have to share my food rations, and we both got out intact. The knowledge that I now have makes me second-guess the world around me, but I've always thirsted for knowledge. And this was like a can of beer found in the desert. Life is thrumming with endless possibility now.

-Jeremy Stukel

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Blaine Anderson._

_December 8, 2012_

Dear Diary,

A lot of stuff has happened in the past two days. This is insane. I can't believe that this is my life. …I should probably explain.

Apparently, I have a soulmate. And he's a vampire.

Yeah, you've heard those legends and stories that we do reports on in English class. That there are hidden vampires in the world. And they spend most of their life searching for their soulmate. Sometimes it takes centuries before they find them.

Yeah. That's all true.

Kurt Hummel, a vampire, is my soulmate.

We met at the Lima Bean. He kind of saved me from falling right on my face. He moved impossibly fast and picked me up with crazy strength. You'd think that I'd be a little startled. But, no. Even though he's basically a stranger, I've never felt safer than I did when I was in his arms. It sounds really weird. But it's true. It's as if there was something missing in my life, but I didn't realize it until the space was filled.

I'm not really sure what happened immediately after I tripped and almost fell, but the next thing I know is I'm sitting on my living room couch with him. I vaguely remember telling Wes and Nick some excuse and then getting in my vehicle and driving home, but none of it really clicked in my brain.

Kurt Hummel is very beautiful. It's kind of scary how strong my feelings are for him. But, if everything he told me is true, then it's totally normal. It's just hard to grasp the concept. Like, a large percentage of the population is closeted vampires. Each of them has a soulmate, literally etched into their skin. (Seriously, he has my name written on his left wrist in irremovable ink.) And, when they find their soulmate, it's kind of like a life commitment.

If you had told me this before I met him, I would have totally rejected the idea. But, now it just feels so right. Of course I want to spend my life with Kurt. What other option is there?

And, he's been looking for me for centuries.

Kissing him felt like my first kiss, except ten times more thrilling and right. I just feel like we're meant to be together. I've finally found him, my missing puzzle piece. I'm complete.

-Blaine Anderson

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Kurt Hummel._

_December 26, 2012_

I've never felt happier in my entire 345 years of existence. Blaine is everything I ever wanted and everything I didn't realize I needed. I could spend weeks just looking at him. He makes me happy just by existing. When we kissed, it felt like a fire was ignited in my soul. When we made love, I wasn't just entering his body, I was entering his soul. Drinking his blood—only a little, not nearly enough to weaken—it was as if I was a man dying of thirst and given an elixir to save my life. I've never felt more complete, more at peace. I didn't realize how truly lonely I was until there was Blaine.

Blaine Anderson. I've found him. I'm with him. I'm never letting him go.

The other day, he asked me a question, looking up at me with those breathtakingly hazel eyes. "What happens when I die?" He knows that there's no way for him to become immortal, or me to become mortal. I think he already knew the answer to his question as well. My actual answer was this: When you die, I will follow. But, I could not say that. It would break his heart. So, I lied to him. The only lie I will ever tell him. I said:

"I have loved you for a thousand years. And I will love you for a thousand more."

He grinned at me a little and called me out on my age. For, of course, I haven't actually lived a thousand years. But, it feels like I have loved him for that long. Then, he got a little sad. "But, without me, what will you do?" he said. So innocent. So absolutely perfect. I simply told him that I would be alright. And then I kissed his worries away.

-Kurt Hummel

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Blaine Anderson._

_July 14, 2013_

Dear Diary,

Today was the first time that Kurt killed somebody for me. Writing it out like that makes it seem like I requested it, which I didn't. But…I understand why he did it. If somebody could threaten him, I would get some unsafe thoughts as well.

I was walking at night to meet him in our favorite New York pastry shop when somebody jumped me. I felt a burst of fear and adrenaline and, almost immediately after it happened, the person was ripped off of me and thrown into the opposite wall. Kurt had told me before that, now that we're connected in every way possible, we can feel each-others very strong emotions. He must have felt my shock and fear, then gotten here as quickly as possible.

We were in a secluded alley and nobody could see what happened next. I've never seen Kurt the way he looked right then, under the light of the streetlamp. His fangs were fully extended, his blue eyes were blazing with fury, his whole body was coiled and tense, and he looked very much like the predator sketched in the books I used to read in middle school. However, I wasn't afraid of him. I could never be afraid of the one constant thing in my life.

I did feel sick as Kurt pounced on the man who attacked me. I was frozen, unable to move, unable to look away. He tore that guy apart. It was absolutely gruesome. When he was done, he turned to me, covered in blood, and I couldn't stop shaking. The body behind him was crumpled on the ground, unmoving. He saw the expression on my face and looked torn between wanting to comfort me and knowing that he should stay away.

But I was terrified. And he made me feel safe. So, I walked a couple steps forward and hugged him gently. His body became pliant against me and he buried his face in my hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered into my ear. I pulled him in for a kiss, letting a couple tears fall as I tasted blood.

-Blaine Anderson

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Kurt Hummel._

_August 2, 2080_

Dear Diary,

This will be my last entry.

A couple of hours ago, Blaine Anderson passed away at the age of 85.

I have lived over 400 years and I am now ready to die.

I will give this book to Matthew. I hope that he reads it and gets comfort from it when his immortality seems to loom over him like a black hole.

I'm also leaving this note:

_Dear Matthew, _

_I'm so sorry that I had to leave you. You must understand that I couldn't have stayed with you forever, that I had to follow your Papa into the afterlife. I'd follow him anywhere, and this is no exception. This act isn't out of lack of love for you. I love you infinitely, son. Don't forget that. You'll understand when you finally meet Holly Fletcher. When she becomes not just a name on your wrist, but a real person, you will understand._

_You'll be okay. _

_Love, _

_Dad_

Goodbye, world.

-Kurt Hummel

* * *

_Excerpt from the diary of Matthew Hummel._

_August 8, 2080_

__Dear Diary,

I've lost both my fathers. Even though it saddens me very much, I think I'll be alright eventually. I know that they loved me with everything they had to give. And, I also know that it would've been unfair and cruel to make Dad stay with me when Papa died. That's why, when he talked to me just after his soulmate passed on, I gave him permission to follow. No matter how lonely I get, I know that I did the right thing and they are happy now, together forever, and they're watching over me.

I'm writing like Dad used to talk. I'm writing like he wrote in his diary. Papa would always tease us whenever I talked like this. He told me that I'm speaking from a different time and I should just talk my age.

But teenagers have such a weird way of talking these days.

Anyway, I'm rambling.

I've decided to start this diary, even though it's kind of ancient to write on paper like this. It's for my parents. Maybe I'll give it to my child one day? Who knows. This signifies the death of two lives, of a part of my life, and the birth of a new one.

Until next time.

-Matthew Hummel

**Author's Note: The original document of this was so fancy and cool, because I had picked a large different font for each of their signatures and stuff. But, whatever. I think you can still understand it like this. Yes? No? Please tell me what you thought! I need feedback to continue writing and continue improving. Thanks for reading! :) **

**Take care.**

**-Patricia Sage**


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